Prairie Fever

by Tessa Layne

Gunnar stopped in front of a beautiful Palomino, and spoke in hushed tones. “So, Lulahbug. When we’re in the barn, we always talk quiet. We don’t want to scare the horses.”

  “She’s pretty,” Lulah answered with quiet reverence.

  “Would you like to pet her nose? This is Lucy. She’s one of the gentlest horses we own.”

  Gunnar stepped sideways to allow Lulah’s outstretched hand reach the horse’s nose. She touched it, then immediately pulled back with a giggle. “It’s fuzzy.”

  “It is.”

  Gunnar walked a little further. “This is Fleur. You and I are going to ride her. She’s also very gentle.” He shot Suzannah a reassuring look. “Normally, I ride Buzz, one of our stallions. But Fleur could use the exercise, and she’s really great with kids.”

  Fear clutched at Suzannah. “You’re not going to let her ride alone are you?”

  Gunnar shook his head. “No way. She’ll ride with me.” He put Lulah down. “If you walk a bit farther down the aisle, there’s a stack of hay bales. Take a seat there, and I’ll bring the horses out to saddle. You can watch.”

  Taking Lulah’s tiny hand, they found the hay bales and watched in rapt attention while Gunnar saddled both horses, talking to them about what he was doing the whole time.

  “Is it okay I don’t have boots?”

  Gunnar nodded. “Sure. And if you like it enough to go out again, I’ll outfit you both with boots.” He led the horses out of the barn, then returned, motioning them to follow. “We have to let the horses stand and walk a bit before we mount up. They like to swell their bellies at first, and we need to re-check the cinch to make sure it’s tight enough.” They re-entered the hot afternoon sun, and Gunnar stopped, holding out an arm. “A couple of rules around horses. Always mount from the left, and avoid getting too close to their backsides. Can you remember that?”

  A tremor of fear shook Suzannah as she nodded. Was this really a good idea, riding horses? They were so big. A fall from the saddle could result in broken arms, torn ligaments, even head injury. She shuddered, ready to turn back around.

  Gunnar’s hand was at her back in an instant. “Take it easy, doc. Nothing bad’s gonna happen. These are the gentlest, most seasoned horses in the stable.”

  “That obvious, huh?” She laughed sheepishly.

  He angled his body away from Lulah and nuzzled her neck. “I’d never let either of you get hurt. I promise.”

  His mouth against her skin sent fingers of awareness tingling through her, but before she could chastise him for being too expressive in front of Lulah, he stepped back, giving her a little wink. Devil, he was teasing her, and she rather liked it. Swinging Lulah up, he set her on the saddle. “Hold on to this with both hands, okay? I’m gonna help your mama, and then I’m going to mount up behind you.”

  “It’s like the merry-go-round, mama.” Her eyes were wide with wonder.

  “You mean the carousel? Yes, I guess it is.”

  Gunnar led her to Lucy, and placed his hands on her hips. But his touch felt more like a caress than help. Heat radiated off him, warming her back, and it took all her self-control to keep from snuggling into him. He chuckled quietly in her ear. “Do you know how hard it is for me to keep my hands off you right now?”

  “Then don’t,” she answered boldly. “I want your hands on me in the worst way.”

  He pressed into her, squeezing her hips tighter. A shiver of pure wanton desire rippled down her spine, tightening her nipples and settling deep in her core. His voice, when he spoke, came out like gravel. “We’re gonna clear the air later, just you and me. Understand?”

  A thrill of anticipation shot through her. She was ready. In fact, she couldn’t wait. She nodded, not trusting her voice.

  “Okay,” he continued quietly, but loud enough for Lulah to hear. “Place your foot in the stirrup, and on three, I want you to push off, then swing your right leg over the saddle. I’ll give you a boost.” He counted, and the next thing she knew, she was up and settling herself in the saddle, but not before he’d given her ass an intimate caress.

  In a flash, Gunnar settled himself behind Lulah, reins in one hand, arm securely wrapped around her torso. Suzannah’s breath lodged in her throat, heart expanding. They both beamed, Lulah barely able to contain her excitement, a look of complete satisfaction on Gunnar’s face. And damn if he wasn’t sexy as sin holding their child. Suzannah’s lady parts flooded with heat. DILF, indeed.

  “Wait.” She called, reaching into her back pocket for her phone. “I have to take a picture.” Lulah’s smile stretched until her eyes became squinty. She snapped several pictures before putting it away. “I’ll text them to you.”

  Gunnar locked eyes with her, and she felt the pull between them, powerfully. A charge of anticipation surged through her. Yes, they definitely needed to talk later.

  CHAPTER 17

  “You’ve got the look of a hungry man, my brother,” Axel ribbed as he handed Gunnar an ice-cold beer. “So what’s the deal between you two, anyway?” Axel nodded to where Suzannah, Maddie, and Haley all sat under the shade of one of the trees.

  “You don’t pull your punches, do you?”

  “Never have, never will.”

  “Glad to see marriage hasn’t changed you.”

  Axel grinned. “Oh, it has. But I’m still an asshole.” He took a draw from the longneck he held.

  Gunnar laughed outright, even as a place in his chest pulled tight. “Damn, it’s just not the same without you here every day.”

  “Are you saying you miss me, big brother?”

  “Nope. Not at all.” His mouth quirked as he grabbed a long sip. “I enjoy not having to look over my shoulder at every turn, worried I’m gonna run into one of your pranks.”

  Axel gave him a sly look. “Maybe I left a few for you to discover.”

  “Nice try, asshole. I scoured this place from top to bottom when you left.”

  This time Axel let out a belly laugh. “You know I had to try.”

  Gunnar grew serious. “Do you think you’ll move back at some point?”

  “Haley’s happy as a pig in mud, and I’m getting clients. I miss the ranch, but we’ve got a pretty sweet setup at home.”

  Home. The way Axel said ‘home’, made him ache. No doubt about it, Axel was never moving back to this home. Gunnar clapped him on the back. “I’m happy for you, man.”

  “You given any more thought to hiring a foreman?”

  Gunnar shook his head. “Pops wasn’t too keen when I brought it up. Wants to keep everything in the family.”

  Axel shook his head, cursing under his breath. “I thought the heart attack might have jolted some perspective into him.”

  “Oh, it did. He’s softer. But he’s a Hansen, so still stubborn as fuck.”

  Axel snorted. “Got that right.” He toed the grass beneath his boots. “But I have to say, you look like hell. I’m glad to see you embracing fatherhood and all, but you’re working way too hard. You don’t want to end up like dad. Or Uncle Warren.”

  “I’ve got a long way to go before I have to worry about that.”

  Axel looked skeptical. “I don’t know, man. You’re under way more stress than Pops. Pops ran the ranch with Uncle Warren and all of us. And things were… easier then. Look, don’t let Pops guilt you into doing something that’s not good for you. Or her.” He gestured to Lulah. “You’ve gotta think about your little girl now.”

  “And I want this to be her legacy,” Gunnar said fiercely. “I’m not giving that up. We’re in the black right now, between leasing some acreage to the Sinclaires for grazing, and the money that comes in from the paintball course. Emma Sinclaire has taken over the marketing for that, and we’re booked two months out now. All these corporate groups come out for team building.”

  Axel took his shoulder. “Great. I’m thrilled for you. All I’m saying is that you may find you need to adjust your priorities.”

  “I can do both. Hell, I’ve been doing both. I’ve been going o
ver every night for dinner since I found out.”

  Axel gave him a hard stare. “There’s a lot more to parenting than just dinner. Don’t forget that.”

  *

  Someone started a bonfire after dinner, the flames shooting high into the twilight as family and friends scattered across the lawn. The Sinclaires’ half-brother, Simon, now a freshman in high school, had invited a few friends over, and were picking through songs on an old beat-up guitar someone had found. Dottie Grace and her husband Teddy had joined Martha and Eddie on the porch, watching over the festivities like ancient royalty. Suzannah and Maddie stepped off the porch together, having just come from inside where they’d put Lulah and Henry to sleep in the guest bedroom.

  Gunnar rose from his lawn chair at the edge of the bonfire. Maybe now he could grab a few minutes alone with Suzannah. He intercepted her as she crossed the lawn. “Lulah settled?”

  She answered with a tender smile. “She and Henry fell right to sleep, holding hands. I thought I was going to melt.”

  That did sound pretty adorable. “Have you had fun this afternoon?”

  “I have. Your family is pretty wonderful.” Her face contorted, and she looked away.

  Instantly, he was on high alert. “What? What is it? Was someone a dick? I swear, I’ll–”

  She held up her hand. “Stop. I’ve had a great time today. And Lulah, too. For a second, it made me realize how much my family’s missed out on.”

  “I don’t understand.” And shit, now she looked downcast.

  “It’s nothing. Really. And I don’t want to ruin this perfect day with thoughts of my crazy family.”

  Now his curiosity was peaked. “Let’s go on a walk, we can talk.”

  “No, really. It’s okay.”

  Gunnar grabbed her hand. “First, I don’t like to see you upset. Second, I was hoping to get you alone anyway. Third, no one will miss us.”

  “Are you sure?” Her voice was filled with doubt.

  “Positive. Look around. The teenagers have taken over. My folks and the Graces are keeping an eye on them. Everyone else has pretty much scattered.” Gunnar had his own ideas about why that was, but for now, he wanted to go sit someplace quiet, talk a little, and canoodle a whole lot more. “I grabbed a blanket from the truck, which direction do you want to go?”

  “But what about Lulah? What if she wakes up?”

  “My folks will be there. And Dottie’s there too,” he cajoled. “She’ll be fine.” Suzannah might still be leery of his folks, but she trusted Dottie. He gave her hand a gentle tug. “Please?”

  She softened, finally nodding. “Okay.”

  Gunnar gave a silent little fist pump, and led her to where he’d stashed the blanket. Tucking it under one arm, he skirted the bonfire and cut between the farmhouse and the barn, heading north toward one of the hills that dotted their property. The first stars winked to life as the sky melted to mauve, then indigo.

  A fire burned brightly in Gunnar’s chest as they hiked over dips and crannies he could traverse with his eyes shut. Suzannah’s breath became labored as they scaled the last hill to where a lone oak stood like a queen surveying her realm. “Need a rest?”

  “I’m good. Just a little out of shape.”

  Her admission surprised him. “How is it doctors can be out of shape?”

  She laughed, a bright, melodious sound that heated his insides. “Let’s start with the long hours, and higher levels of cortisol from stress and sleep deprivation. It helps that I’m on my feet nearly all day, but that’s different than going for a jog or hitting the weights.”

  “And you probably don’t eat so well.”

  “You noticed?”

  “I’m worried the board has asked too much of you,” he conceded.

  “This is so much better than my residency. I’m fine. Really,” she added when he narrowed his eyes.

  Gunnar spread the blanket just below the crest of the hill. He preferred to have an unobstructed view of the stars. Dropping to the blanket, he patted the ground between his legs. She sank down, not resisting when he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against his chest. A light breeze danced up from the south carrying with it, the scent of warm earth and dewy grass. In the distance, a coyote yipped, and the tree frogs began to sing. Fireflies rose up, winking around them as the sky faded to black. For a long time, neither of them spoke. “This is the place I wanted to bring you to. Before,” he murmured, placing his chin on top of her head.

  “It’s beautiful.”

  “Magic of the Flint Hills. Sometimes it feels like a place out of time. Especially on a quiet night like this, where I can almost imagine our ancestors coming by covered wagon.”

  “When did your family arrive here?”

  “Eighteen-fifties. Not long after the Sinclaires settled across the creek.”

  A thoughtful hum emanated from her throat, as if she was thinking deeply.

  He continued, struggling to put his thoughts into adequate words. “I always wanted my children to grow up tied to this land. Six generations of Hansens have poured their lifeblood into this acreage. We’ve survived floods, droughts, storms, war, and depression. This land has kept us alive. Given us everything. We… I can’t let it go. You know, my uncle Warren’s ashes are scattered underneath that tree.”

  “That one, there?”

  “Mmm-hmm.”

  Her body pulled inward, tensing. “I-I’d never ask you to give this up.”

  “But?”

  She shook her head. “There’s no caveat. This land is who you are. Anyone with half a brain can see it. You’re as rooted to the soil as that tree.” She twisted, pointing to the tree. Her skin glowed in the starlight, ethereal and otherworldly. As if she were a luminous Tallemaja or an elvish creature from the Swedish fairytales of his childhood, fair and beautiful.

  “You turn me inside out, ’Zannah,” he rasped, bringing a hand to her cheek. “I forget which way is up with you.” He stroked a thumb over her satin skin. “I never stopped loving you, deep down.”

  She froze, eyes wide. Silence loomed over them. For a moment, even the frogs went quiet.

  “Did I say too much?” His voice came out barely a whisper, because saying it, admitting it, would surely make it so.

  Her hand dropped to his shoulder and the next thing he knew, they were kissing with reckless abandon. Desperately, as if it was their last kiss. Or their first kiss in too long. He tangled his fingers in her silky hair, pulling it free from her signature ponytail, deepening their connection, sliding his tongue across hers, plundering and tasting.

  She shifted her hips around, and together they tumbled to the ground, a tangle of limbs. He rolled, so his hips pinned hers, notching his erection against her pussy, and braced his arms alongside her head. She stared up at him, eyes bright pools in the darkness. “So beautiful,” he murmured, dropping a kiss at her temple. “So soft.” He trailed kisses along her cheekbone. “Be with me, ’Zannah. Let me be your man.”

  She whimpered as he took her mouth again, pouring all his feeling into their connection.

  “Yes, oh yes, Gunnar,” she murmured when he pulled away. “There’s never been anyone but you.”

  At her words, a weight lifted off his chest. Warmth flooded him. Light. They came together, limbs colliding in an effort to quickly remove clothing. Boots toed off, shirts yanked over heads, pants shimmied down, until they were panting and naked, clothing strewn across the blanket like a mini-explosion had gone off.

  Gunnar sat back on his heels, cock jutting out, thick and heavy, and stared unabashedly. Fucking gorgeous. She was rounder, more voluptuous than before, body stretched from carrying his child. Hips full, belly soft, breasts heavy. All plusses in his book. Changes borne out of love. He reached for her ankle, and kissed the hollow inside her ankle bone. “You’re perfection, ’Zannah.”

  He marked a trail up the inside of her leg, branding her with his mouth. Pausing at the sensitive spots he remembered, kissing those places until she moan
ed, or twitched, or both. He aimed to feast on her fully, until her cries of ecstasy echoed off the hills. “Open for me, sweetheart,” he said, stroking the inside of her thighs. “Let me give it to you like I know you like it.”

  Suzannah opened wider with a sigh, staring at him through heavy-lidded eyes, mouth parted.

  “Do you know how beautiful you are?” His voice was a husk. “I’m gonna make you feel so good.”

  “Oh yes, please.” She gave him a loopy smile. “I love what you do to me.”

  He bent, inhaling her essence, delighting as she cried out when his tongue split her wet folds. Something deep inside him slid home as her taste hit his brain. He licked at her like a man dying of thirst. And maybe he had been, without her. But the drought was over now, and he meant to take his fill. Her hips rose to meet him, as he drew her clit into his mouth, sucking the aroused bead. He nearly came when he fucked her hot channel, and she squeezed around his tongue, filling his mouth with her glorious musky sweet taste. Her hips rolled in a time of her own making, but he picked up on it, and matched her tempo, lick, thrust, suck. Lick, thrust, suck, until at last, she let go with a high wail that shook him to his bones.

  He reached for his pants, rooting until he found the condom he’d jammed in his pocket at the last minute, just in case. Sheathing himself, he sank into her while she was still shaking like a leaf in the aftermath of her orgasm. His eyes nearly rolled into his skull from the tight heat of her. This wasn’t some meaningless coupling, a mindless fuck purely for release. This was fucking church, and he was praying at the altar of Suzannah, the only woman he’d ever given himself to – body, mind, and soul. This was a homecoming as sweet and poignant as the prodigal son. A gift to be cherished, fiercely protected.

  He curled over her, bending to press a kiss between her ample breasts. He took a mouthful, swirling his tongue over a rosy peak. Slowly rocking into her, making sure he dragged his cock across her swollen clit as they moved together in a rhythm as old as these hills. She loved it slow, loved his deep thrusts, and he took his time, arms straining from the effort of holding back, but he could feel her orgasm building. Winding through her body, coiling tight, ready to snap.